Chapter 19 Peter #2
In his bedroom, Peter found the bottle of lube he’d used solely for his own pleasure up until now, a situation he had every intention of changing. That is, assuming Theodore indulges me. Assuming he’s amenable to me convincing him that indulgence is in his own best interest.
Peter returned to the basement, pleasantly surprised to find that Theo’s clothes lay in a pile on the floor in front of the couch, while Theo himself peeked out from under the blanket.
His jade green eyes sparkled with humor, and that expression on his lover’s face made Peter’s chest squeeze tight.
He’s always so serious, so scared. I want to make it so that he can look at me like this always.
Theo blinked. “It really is cold down here, you know.”
“I’ll warm you right up, Theodore.” Peter dropped the lube on the couch then stripped. Theo’s gaze raking all over him was a reward all its own.
“I don’t get it,” Theo said, his eyes wandering up and down Peter’s body. “How come you don’t have people falling over themselves to get into bed with you? That succubus lawyer was hot, and I distinctly remember that she had eyes.”
Peter tossed his pants aside, and Theo eyed his crotch with unabashed hunger.
“I am selective, Theodore.”
On screen, the count was meeting the innocent English girl, who—in Peter’s considered opinion—was far smarter than the men around her and undervalued only because she wore skirts. If one sets out to hunt a vampire, one has to use the best people for the job, always.
Peter crawled onto the couch and over Theo, the blanket still between them.
“But I don’t get that,” Theo said, at which point Peter realized what Theo was talking about.
He wants to know what we are. What I see in him. He wants me to swear to the gods I grew up with that my heart and body will be his, forever. That I will heed his commands as he will heed mine.
Peter looked into those jade eyes. “Theodore, I want you and no other. I will not share you or cast you aside. I want you to be mine so that I may be yours. I’ll share this life with you, my precious one, that is my oath.”
Theo’s shell cracked, just a little. Peter saw it on his face, saw the hints of adoration in his eyes—the want, not physical, but wanting this. The bond Peter was offering.
The young must be shown before they believe. I’ll show you what my oath is made of.
Theo’s arms were partially caught under the blanket, but he worked them free and wound them around Peter’s neck.
“You actually mean that? And you’re not just shitting me because I’m good at sucking dick?”
Peter threw his head back and laughed. “I mean it, Theodore. Frigg’s tits, my lust and my body are yours, and yours only.”
Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you just swear on the breasts of a goddess?”
Peter shrugged. “Everyone knows she has a great set.”
“You really are a Viking.”
“That’s quite reductive. Let me see if I can make you call me a few other things.” Peter slid down, and as he moved, Theo’s hands fell to his sides. Peter kept eye contact as he pulled the blanket off to reveal Theo’s naked body, his cock leaking.
It was a beautiful sight, but for now, it wasn’t what Peter was after. What Peter wanted was to give Theo what no one else had likely given him before.
Theo spread his legs willingly with Peter’s guidance, probably in anticipation of the earlier blowjob being returned in kind. Instead, he went for Theo’s puckered hole. Theo’s surprised jerk when he licked over the sensitive flesh told him he’d been right to suspect that this was new to Theo.
I should thank Celeste for not introducing him to the art of rimjobs.
“Ah…” Theo’s hands found Peter’s head under the blanket.
“Relax and let me have you this way,” Peter said.
“Fine. Fiiiinneee.”
Peter licked around Theo’s hole in slow circles. It drew quite the reaction: quivering, jerky bucking, desperate gasps, fingers pulling hard on Peter’s hair. Seeing the evident arousal before him, Peter decided he was going to make Theo come undone. Thoroughly undone.
He kept slicking Theo’s hole with his tongue, but risked stroking Theo’s cock with one hand as well, even if Theo needed to be held down. Vampiric strength had many uses, but stilling a lover so one could lavish more pleasure on him? It was the best, in Peter’s book.
“Oh…god, oh my fucking god,” Theo moaned.
Peter decided he liked this far better than being called Viking.
“Peter—fuck!—so fucking good.” Which was pleasing to hear, though whether it was from the way Peter was grabbing Theo and circling his tip with a finger or from how Peter was now dipping his tongue inside him remained open to interpretation. “Just—fucking hell!”
This was about the worship. Peter enjoyed being on his knees for Theodore, the musky scent of his sweat mingling with lust mingling with the sweetness of desire.
Theo jerked again, his cock trembled frantically, and moments later, the briny scent of warm cum balanced out this decadent perfume of ecstasy.
Peter was nowhere near done. He kept licking Theo’s hole, just preparing him to be stretched on a cock. With firm tugs, Peter made sure to milk Theo to the best of his ability. If he had anything left to give when they were done, it would be a damn shame.
When Peter was satisfied, he moved up, enjoying the sight of Theo’s slick, boneless body. His soft skin was flushed, and his right hand was splayed across his belly where the cum had painted a soothsayer’s design.
When Peter pushed the blanket back over his head, Theo stared up at him with expectant eyes, the lids at half-mast. Peter longed to deepen the red flush of Theo’s lips, but without knowing if that would squick the human out too much, he contented himself with eye contact alone.
“You look like the count himself could lure you into his coffin, Theodore.”
“Not the cock I want,” Theo managed to say, the words mildly slurring together. “I want you to come inside me. Fill me up.”
Peter reached down beneath the blanket, caressed that expectant patch of skin, and grinned when Theo shivered.
“In here?”
“Goddamn—yes, you asshole. Just finally fuck me already. Why do I always have to repeat myself with you? Cock in ass. It’s not rocket science.”
Peter let his laughter escape before he fished the lube out from behind the couch cushions and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers.
Letting Theo come down too much wasn’t a good idea, so even while prepping him, Peter took his time, offering slow but steady touches where he could have rushed.
“Just, please, please! I need you already,” Theo moaned underneath him.
“How sweet you are when you recall your manners.”
Deciding he’d drawn things out long enough, Peter slicked himself up and buried his cock deep inside the welcoming warmth that was Theo.
“You’re mine, mine alone, and I am yours,” Peter said, then rolled his hips and watched as Theo’s eyes rolled back in response. “Say it, Theodore.”
“I’m yours—and…you belong to—me.” Theo gasped and squirmed, digging his fingers into Peter’s skin.
“Yes, yes,” Peter said, all pretense of control leaving him.
Not quite all pretense. With all his strength unleashed, Peter could have easily hurt Theo. Not going that far was an instinctive need. Something primal.
He followed instinct too when he rolled his hips, again, watched the way Theo’s eyes fluttered as his mouth fell open in an ecstatic moan. He did it again, and again, chasing the sight of Theodore losing himself in pleasure. It was too short a chase.
As Theo’s muscles grew tense, Peter could tell the other was almost there. Another thrust, and Theo came. Watching was enough for Peter, and he came in hot spurts that he pushed as deep as he could, marking all of Theo with the scent of pleasure.
The light from the screen painted greens and dark reds all over their skin. Theo’s black hair shone with droplets of sweat, and his eyes had glazed over.
Peter pulled out, but he didn’t want this to end. But, of course, his wishes only had about fifty percent relevance. Theo would cool down in a few more minutes, and Peter could see how he might appreciate a shower.
Without a care about his own nakedness, Peter wrapped the blanket around Theo, and once more carried him up the stairs, keeping to a human-friendly travel speed.
“Is this becoming a thing?” Theo asked, his voice thick with spent pleasure.
“Sex in the basement? I very much hope so.”
“The carrying thing,” Theo clarified while he attempted to poke Peter’s shoulder. The movement turned into a caress, because Theo was one well-fucked human and happy to be so.
“Well, once I put in some heating down there, you can nap on the couch, then we can do this again, and after that, I can poll you about walking up three flights of stairs.”
“Could’ve just said yes.” Theo’s head sagged sideways against Peter’s shoulder, and his eyes fell shut.
“Could’ve just not called me a Viking, but here we both are.”
The smile that bloomed on Theo’s face was the kind of thing that, if caught on canvas, made the artist immortal and the model a legend. Here, with darkness falling, only Peter saw it. I shall keep the memory of this forevermore, beloved Theodore.